


Green-eyed Monsters

by loupgarou1750 (LoupGarou)



Series: Daddy's Boy [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Chan, Humor, Incest, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-07-27
Updated: 2007-07-27
Packaged: 2017-11-04 00:50:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/387835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoupGarou/pseuds/loupgarou1750
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snape has strange ideas about father/son relationships</p>
            </blockquote>





	Green-eyed Monsters

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Perfica](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Perfica/gifts), [perverse_idyll](https://archiveofourown.org/users/perverse_idyll/gifts), [painless_j](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=painless_j).



> In spite of the 'chan' and 'incest' tags there's no sex between Snape and Harry, just a lot of cheesy innuendo.

'Potter! Front and centre!' Start of term was only six weeks away and, given Potter's thickheadedness, they were likely going to have to go over the rules several times before Snape let his spawn loose in the Headmaster's realm.

He heard the patter of bare feet and looked up to see Harry standing in front of his chair, tousle-headed and ridiculously clad in overlarge pyjamas – decorated with something vaguely recognised as a Muggle cartoon character – that hid every detail of the boy's charming form. Snape gestured irritably at the floor. 'Looking up at you is giving me a kink. In my neck.' That was only half-true, of course. Given his own inclinations and Potter's diminutive size, the only way Snape would ever look up at the boy was if he . . . or if he stood in a rather deep hole. 'Kneel down in front of me, there's a good boy.' 

In a moment of sentimental weakness, Snape flicked his wand and conjured a tassled pillow to cushion the boy's knobby knees.

'Why can't I just sit in your lap again?'

'Ungrateful wretch! Just for that–' Snape flicked his wand again. Harry's pyjama bottoms transformed into a pair of loose, gauzy trousers that wouldn't have been out of place in a seraglio; his top disappeared completely.

The luminous green eyes widened in that expression of outraged shock that was rapidly becoming Snape's favourite. 'Da-ad! These are . . . you can see my bits through them!'

'Well, I would be able to if you had any bits to see,' Snape sneered. 'And if you'd stop obscuring them with your hands,' he added grumpily. 'Do as I tell you, imp. We haven't got all day and we've a lot to discuss.'

Pouting prettily, Harry did as he was told. His descent lacked a certain aesthetic grace, but that was something they could work on. As soon as Snape could figure out a plausible reason for it. Mustn't be too harsh on the boy; in spite of the truculent expression and the fact that the small hands were still folded aggravatingly over his groin, he had at least proved himself amenable to instruction. It was an attitude that Snape intended to cultivate. 'Don't slouch, Potter! Back straight! Chest out! You're a Snape, damn it! Snapes do not slouch! Look at me! Clasp your hands behind your back!' 

Although his expression was mutinous, Harry followed every snapped instruction.

_You might remember it's easier to catch flies with honey, Severus._ Snape scowled, remembering how the Headmaster's gentle smile had been belied by the steely gaze coming over the ridiculous half moon spectacles. _It shouldn't be hard to earn the boy's trust, his affection even. His unfortunate relatives hardly doted on the boy and he responds very positively to the slightest display of kindness. I'm sure even you can manage._

Snape clamped down hard on the memory. The doddering old fool. Of course Snape could manage to be nice to the boy. He gazed down at his scowling progeny. 'So, you can follow simple instructions, eh? I guess it's just possible a brain lurks somewhere behind that vacuous expression.' There. That wasn't so hard, was it? He'd soon have the boy eating out of his hands, pink lips nibbling at his fingers, red tongue flicking out to capture stray crumbs . . .

'Where was I?'

'You were insulting me, as usual,' Potter responded sullenly.

'Don't you take that tone with me, you misbegotten whelp! I paid you a compliment! You should be grovelling at my feet!'

'I _am_ , in case you hadn't noticed,' Harry snapped back.

Oh. He was, wasn't he? Snape gave a satisfied sigh. 'Get that black look off your face or I'll slap it off!' _And not with my hand, either._ Snape squirmed a little in his chair. That was an image that didn't bear thinking about. Not that early in the day, anyway. He'd contemplate it later, when he went to bed and had time for a good think and a nice, slow . . .

'You'll be starting school soon, and there are things we need to discuss. First–'

'Dad–'

Snape glared. 'Why you insolent little bugger! How dare you interrupt me?'

'I'm not a bugger! Nor a–'

'You're interrupting again,' Snape pointed out waspishly. 'But you're quite right. You're not a bugger. Perish the thought. Buggeree, perhaps, but we'll discuss that some other time. It's not wise to rush these things. Now, as I was saying-'

'Da-ad! Would you just listen to me for a minute? I'm cold, and I want to take these trousers off and–'

'I hardly see how getting completely naked will warm you up.' Snape paused, then nodded. 'Well, I can see how it might happen, but frankly, I'm shocked you would suggest such a thing.'

'Da-ad!'

'And that's another thing. Stop calling me 'Dad'. It's so . . . ordinary. Call me . . .' Snape tapped his fingers on lips. 'Call me 'Daddy'. Yes, that will suit.'

' _Daddy?_ But only babies say that! I'm nearly eleven, much too old to say 'Daddy'.'

'Don't be absurd. I'll have you know that any number of fully grown men have called me 'Daddy' and thanked me for the privilege.'

There was something beguiling about that look of utter confusion.

'My pyjamas?'

_Single-minded little buggeree, isn't he?_ 'You can wear those or you can take them off. It makes little difference to me.'

'No, and I can see why it wouldn't! It's not as if they hide anything, is it?'

'It's your choice, Potter,' Snape said reasonably. 'Straighten up. You're slouching. And I thought I told you to put your hands behind your back!'

Potter sighed. 'I don't understand what you want from me. I'm trying to be good, but you keep making up new rules, and you're confusing me, and I just don't know what you want. Unless it's for me to go away again.' The luscious lower lip was trembling. 'That's it, isn't it? You don't want me.'

'Of course I want you!' Snape snapped. 'But if Albus Dumbledore knew that, he'd have my head faster than I could swallow yours! Oh, don't pout. Fine. You want your stupid, grubby pyjamas? Take them!' Snape flicked his wand and Potter's pants and pyjama bottoms flew across the room and smacked into the boy's chest, nearly bowling him over. 'Well? Go on then. Put them on. See if I care.' Snape turned away from the boy and folded his arms.

'Now who's pouting?' Potter asked cheekily.

'I am not pouting,' Snape responded sulkily. 'Just put your stupid trousers on.'

'Don't look.'

'Why would I ever want to look at you? It's not as if there's anything remotely appealing about your knobbly knees, scrawny chest, slim hips, rosy nipples, colt-like legs. I can hardly bear to be in the same room with you.'

'Fine. I'll just leave then, shall I? Go back to the Dursleys'? Crawl back into the cupboard under the stairs where I belong? I thought . . . ' A deep sob made the thin chest shudder. 'I thought you wanted to be my dad. I was so happy when I found out. I . . . _guh_ . I thought . . . _guh_ . . . you'd be happy too. You . . . you let me sit in your lap . . . _hhuh hhuh_ . . . and . . . and you put your _guh_ arms around me and I was so happy, but y-you h-hate m-m-me! Just _guh_ like they h-hate me.' Tears were streaming down his face and he had to take several more shuddering breathes before he could continue. 'I guess maybe they were right. I am a freak and nobody could ever love me.'

'You know that snivelling would be a lot more attractive if you were face down across my lap, don't you? And 'I'm a freak and nobody loves me' _what_? Oh good Lord. You really should drool. It would compliment your vacant expression perfectly. What did I tell you to call me? 'I'm a freak and nobody loves me . . .?' Snape nodded encouragingly.

'D-D-Daddy . . .?'

'That's right. Daddy. Now, come here.' Snape opened his arms and let out a soft 'oof' as Harry scrambled into his lap and butted his head against Snape's chest. 'Would you like to ride my broomstick, little boy? No? Suit yourself, but I quite enjoyed it the other night. I thought it could become a father-son thing we did. Very well. If you don't, you don't, but don't come running to me when puberty strikes and you get horny.' Snape pressed his nose foolishly into the boy's errant cowlick and let him cry himself out.

When, at last, the sobbing subsided, Snape spoke softly into the mess of black hair. 'I think you owe me an apology, don't you?'

'I'm sorry, Daddy.'

Snape shivered and his hand trembled as he stroked a bony shoulder-blade. 'Very nice, Potter. Now, say 'I've been a very bad boy, Daddy.'' 

'I've been a very bad boy, Daddy.'

'Yes, you have. And you should be punished.' He swatted Harry's bum lightly. 'Say 'Please, Daddy. May I have another?''

He could feel the boy grin against his shoulder even before he heard the foolish giggle.

'Please, Daddy. May I have another?'

Oh, that was . . . delicious. 'No. You may not. You haven't earned it yet. Get up. Come on. UP!'

Harry looked up at him. His tears had dried in crusty streaks on his cheeks, his eyes were swollen and lips were slightly puffy as if he had just been . . . Snape pushed him rather hurriedly off his lap and stood up. 'I have to visit the loo. I shouldn't be more than five or ten minutes.' It was hard to stride briskly with his cock extended full length down his trousers leg, but he managed. Once at the door, he turned back long enough to see gauzy harem pants sliding down over narrow hips, and then bolted into the bathroom and slammed the door.

Panting, Snape leaned against the wall and undid his buttons. _You have a lot to answer for, Lily_ , he thought. _Damn you and you extraordinary fertility anyway! You show up, batting those annoyingly long eyelashes over your irratingly green eyes, because you had some stupid spat with James. A single, fumbling encounter and this is the result! Muggleborn or not, you must've had Weasley blood in you somewhere. Nothing else would account for it._ 'Ahhhh,' Snape groaned as he took himself in hand. _If you had been male, or less feracious, I wouldn't have had to deal with your ridiculously tempting brat._

It wasn't going to take more than a few strokes at this rate. Snape wrenched his thoughts away from twin pairs of devilish green-eyes and sultry lips. Really, wanking while thinking of mother _and_ child was a bit twisted, even for him.

'Daddy?' A high, quavering voice filtered through the heavy door of the bathroom. 

Snape jerked, gave a particularly vicious, twisting stroke to his cock, and splattered his seed over the tiled floor. _Which is what you should have done eleven years ago,_ he thought, lips curving into a wry smile. 'Coming, Harry. I'm coming.'


End file.
